Beyond doing,
beyond not doing,
beyond beginning again
and remembering.
Disbelieving nothing,
the old man,
walking
through walls.

—

WITHIN WITHOUT

Neither is it the wind
Nor the tree
That howls
In this storm:
In the convolution of the ear,
In the eye’s tear,
In the blood’s roar,
It finds a home.

Emptiness
Finding and losing
Edges.

Bitter beauty,
Is beauty
Nonetheless.

—

KEEN

Slaked,
tongue cup still tastes,
somewhere,
sharp sorrow,
pulse.

—

DEFINE

Clarity: not a knowing,
not a thing,
not graspable,
never owned.
It is a landscape, high,
with a wind from the mountains,
a forgetting of,
a removal of frames and views,
cold on the tip of the tongue….

—

RESOUND

When we hear a phrase of the tune we have always danced to,
we remember and forget,
become more and less ourselves.
That’s it, that’s it.
Struck dumb by namelessness,
bright eyed,
melting.

A matter of opinion, this weighing of souls.
The animal-headed ones cast out
For the favoured, faceless, nameless accountants.
Glory rationalised as aberrant chemical imbalance,
Ninety-nine point nine percent of all known dreams
Killed, deadened, ridiculed.
Distracted, taken for a ride,
Disengaged from small beauty,
Cursing the train of more,
The sleek highway to an echoed here.
Consumed, never consummated.
It will never add up to much.

Friends, one by one,
Acquiescing to anonymous silence.
Silent dawns without laughter,
Void cracking through the eggshell light.
A pillow of dissapointment
Stifling a few last breaths.
The parasite gone one step too far,
One step far too far.
Abducted, returned, discarded,
Tested, rejected.
Numbed, awaiting the quenchless wrath
Of the righteous.